Though Kirio Hikifune, as a Royal Guard probationary member, didn't yet have an official satellite palace, she at least had basic lodging.
Since his conversation with the Monk, Kensei had spent these days in Sis Hikifune's quarters, studying the Ura Kidō principles.
"What the hell is this old Monk even writing? I could dip a chicken's feet in ink and scatter rice on paper—it'd be more legible than this."
Kensei tossed the paper onto the table once more, flopping backward onto the floor.
He'd hoped to master Ura Kidō while waiting for Nimaiya to finish forging, then show off to Sōsuke. But the Monk's writing was pure gibberish.
"Nothing beats... Kūkon."
Kensei hugged Kūkon to his chest. Kūkon was wonderful—whenever she had new techniques, she never lectured him; she simply demonstrated.
This stuff is comparable to dozens of foreign academic papers his advisor would send when writing a thesis; he'd leave for Sōsuke to study slowly. She'd love it.
"Still studying what the Monk gave you?"
Kirio Hikifune's voice came from the doorway. During her days in the Royal Guard, she'd spent almost all her time in the kitchen, developing her Reishi cuisine.
Thanks to her, Kensei felt he'd gained considerable weight lately.
"Wish I'd never looked at it. Total waste of brain cells."
Kensei rolled over. Lying on the floor, he couldn't see Hikifune's face—only two globes.
"Your custom Zanpakutō should be ready soon. The smoke from Phoenix Palace has died down considerably."
Hikifune sat at the low table, nibbling on the cookies set there.
As she finished speaking, an excited voice approached from the distance:
"Young Kensei! You here?"
Ōetsu Nimaiya shoved open the door, cradling a dark wooden case. His face radiated the satisfaction and pride of a craftsman completing a masterpiece.
"Hey, yo! Come see! I forged this exactly to your specifications—one cool Zanpakutō!"
Nimaiya presented the case to Kensei. Though his lines were eccentric, his movements were extra careful. This blade represented his hard work; he couldn't let it be damaged now.
Kensei opened the case. An elegant Zanpakutō lay quietly within. The blade was a gorgeous dark purple, patterned with delicate black mist—identical to the swirling mist around Baraggan's body.
The hilt was bone-white, stamped with a broken crown.
"Well? What do you think?" Nimaiya raised an eyebrow proudly, watching Kensei's expression intently. "I followed your requirements exactly. The aging ability diminished slightly during forging, but you probably don't care about that."
"You read me pretty well."
Kensei rose, grasping the hilt and casually flourishing the blade.
The edge whistled through the air. The black mist patterns on the blade pulsed as Kensei infused his spiritual pressure, almost breathing with life.
"Never expected Baraggan's old bones to forge such a blade. Thanks, Nimaiya."
Kensei examined the cold gleam appreciatively. He wondered how the Quincies would fare against this blade after all; Hollow power was pure poison to them.
Speaking of which, did attacks from a Zanpakutō forged from Baraggan still count as Hollow power?
"My pleasure! If you get another Vasto Lorde-class Hollow like this, come find me again."
Nimaiya thumbed his chest. "Not to brag—it's only my first attempt. Give me another shot, and I could boost this blade's power by a full twenty percent."
"Does this blade have a name?"
"Uh..." Nimaiya scratched his curly hair. He'd rushed over right after finishing; no time to name it. "Figured I'd leave that to its first user. It's your commissioned blade, after all."
"Good point. How about 'The Zanpakutō Overflowing with Baraggan's Resentment'?"
Kensei considered briefly, then blurted out what he felt was an appropriately thematic name. After all, longer names were better—just like novel titles.
"Kūjaku—Withered Silence. An excellent name."
Nimaiya's mouth twitched. Fortunately, a Zanpakutō's true name wasn't chosen by its owner; otherwise, he'd pity Kensei's actual blade.
"Very well. Your name is good. We'll use that."
Kensei, Crown Prince of Soul Society, magnanimously accepted Nimaiya's suggestion instead of imposing his own through authority—truly a wise and benevolent ruler in the making.
How vastly superior to that stubborn old fool Yamamoto!
Kensei sheathed Kūjaku in the simple black scabbard Nimaiya had provided. His business at the Soul King's Palace concluded, he and Hikifune could now return to Soul Society.
Thinking of the Seireitei, Kensei gripped Kūjaku and laughed aloud:
"Haha! Old Man Yama, I've got a new divine weapon now. Prepare to die!"
Nimaiya was stunned by Kensei's sudden declaration of war. Did this kid have some earth-shattering plot?
Shutara Senjumaru appeared in the doorway precisely then, catching this bizarre, contextless proclamation. She raised an eyebrow, glancing at Hikifune. "This kid's always picking fights with Captain-Commander Yamamoto? And they're master and disciple?"
Hikifune smiled helplessly, shaking her head gently. "Just consider it their unique way of bonding. Unconventional, perhaps."
Senjumaru didn't press further. During her time in the Seireitei, she'd heard plenty about the Kensei-Yamamoto dynamic—mostly from Kensei Muguruma, Mashiro, and Love.
Tales of secretly accumulating power, packing the Gotei 13 with loyalists, awaiting the day Kensei would raise his banner and overthrow the Captain-Commander from within.
None of which concerned her. She had other business today.
"As promised, the remaining Shihakushō you requested."
Senjumaru's bone arms presented several exquisite packages to Kensei, containing women's Shihakushō.
"New materials—they automatically adjust size based on the wearer's spiritual pressure. Our transaction is complete."
Nimaiya produced a set of professional tools, stuffing them into Kensei's arms. "Zanpakutō maintenance kit. Can't let my masterpiece fall into disrepair."
Hikifune looked at Kensei, arms full, and stood with a smile. "Time to go. Can't keep the Captain-Commander waiting."
After brief farewells to Nimaiya and Senjumaru, Kensei and Hikifune packed up.
Hikifune headed toward the Tenchūren, but Kensei waved her off.
"Sis Hikifune, last time I returned from Hueco Mundo, I didn't use the Senkaimon. And we haven't even left Soul Society."
Kensei drew Kūkon, tracing another cross. A spatial rift opened once more.
"Is this reliable?"
"Trust me. No accidents this time."
Kensei patted his chest in assurance. Last time's mishap was definitely due to跨-dimensional travel. This time would be fine.
They stepped into the rift and vanished from the Soul King's Palace.
Deep within the Soul King's Inner Palace, the Monk sensed Kensei's spiritual pressure disappear. He rubbed his bald head, squinted at the Soul King before him, and sighed deeply.
He hoped this young man would live up to the Soul King's expectations.